


Hideout

by cretkid



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e02 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Part II, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-29
Updated: 2001-09-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 16:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14794044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cretkid/pseuds/cretkid
Summary: "--you can come, you can stay if there's something you need to get away from--"





	Hideout

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

 

Title: Hideout

Author: CretKid aka Cal

Category: CJ/Danny (friendship)

Rating: PG-13 for use of a bad word

Spoilers: "The Portland Trip", "Let Bartlet Be Bartlet" and "In The  
Shadow of Two Gunmen" to be specific

Summary: "--you can come, you can stay if there's something you need  
to get away from--"

Notes: Title comes from a Sarah Harmer song that's been running through  
my head for the last two months and I've been watching thirtysomething on  
Bravo every night since I've been back in the country, so I wanted to  
write a Danny story. Hobbes told me the absolute best line that I just  
had to get into a story somehow. Takes place after the events of my  
story, "Reason's Prisoner: Paragon of Animals".

Disclaimer: Ain't mine. 'Nuf said.

Like this? Wanna read more? Go to  
www.geocities.com/rdcottrell/fiction.html  


  
Hideout  


Danny Concannon bullied up to the bar and waved his hand to catch the  
bartender's attention. An overly large man was half seated on a stool  
next to him, smelling of booze and cigar smoke. Danny smiled in his  
direction: he had been in enough bars to know that it was easier to  
deflect drunk patron confrontations with a friendly flash of teeth .  
Danny asked for a pitcher of the night's beer special and a pitcher of  
water and as he waited for his order, he sensed the man would not be  
allayed with a nod and a grin.  


"Water? Why th'ell are you gettin' water for? Wanna know why I don't  
drink water? Be-hic-cause fish fuck in it." The burly man tried to  
emphasize his point by hitting the edge of the bar with his fist. Instead  
he sprawled into a bar stool.  


Danny stepped back as his new found philosopher friend struggled to  
maintain his precarious balance, not interested in finding new and  
certainly unwanted perfumes all over his clothes. He couldn't help but  
reply, "So showing my goldfish X-rated movies is a bad thing."  


The bartender placed the pitchers and two glasses on the counter and  
motioned for one of the doormen to flag the inebriated man a taxi ride  
home. Danny sidestepped the mass kneeling on the floor and carried his  
wares to the booth in the far back corner.  


"Wonderful place you frequent," CJ Cregg announced as he reclaimed his  
seat opposite her. "I should have gone with my first instinct and turned  
right around when I saw you here."  


"What can I say, it's a happenin' joint." He passed a glass to CJ,  
remembering the almost comical display of dismay on her face when she  
spotted him as she walked through the door.   


He had pointed to the other side of his booth. She had scowled. He had  
pouted. She had looked at the ceiling before she relented and joined him  
at the table. He had offered to take her coat. She had batted his hands  
away and sat down. He had offered to buy her a drink. She had insisted  
that if he was buying anything, it would be a reality check. He had asked  
again, she acquiesced, and now he was having a drink with a woman he  
wasn't ashamed to say he still had a teensy-weensy crush on.  


"This is a hole in the wall," CJ said under her breath.  


"But it's my hole in the wall. And you walked into it, so..." Danny sipped  
his beer and waggled his eyebrows. CJ was ignoring him and staring  
blankly at the glass in front of her. "You said you'd have whatever I was  
having," he added, tipping his glass towards her.  


"Yes, I did. I want to know what I'm drinking."  


"It's called beer."  


CJ glowered at him. "Really."  


Danny couldn't help but laugh at her expression. "You think I would serve  
you piss-poor beer? It's Boddington's Pub Ale, if you must know. I  
finally get you to go out--"  


"This is not a date!"  


Holding his hand up in defense, Danny continued, "I amend my statement: I  
finally get you to have a drink with me."  


"This was in no way a planned event."   


He watched as CJ fiddled with her glass. "It's not a date."  


"This is NOT a date." She tried to hide her smile as she took a sip of  
beer, but he spied a mischievous gleam in her eye.  


A year ago Danny would have found such a conversation annoying, the  
paranoia as frustrating as it was funny. Now, it was just amusing. "If  
you haven't been listening, I am agreeing with you."  


"Okay then, as long as we are in agreement that this is not a date."  


"It's not a date."  


CJ folded her hands before her, and as if having second thoughts grabbed  
one of the well-worn menus stashed between the condiments and the wall.  
"I came in here because I was looking for a late dinner and this place is  
close to my apartment. It was just a coincidence that you were here  
first."  


"This sounds suspiciously like a rationalization to me."  


"Since you were here first, I can rest, assured that you are not stalking  
me."  


"That time in the park, that was a one time thing." Danny smirked at her  
raised eyebrow. "Okay, maybe not a one time thing. Besides, you have that  
6-toed cat to protect you. And since you arrived here after me, I could  
presume that it is YOU that is stalking ME."   


"When pigs fly."  


Danny laughed and flagged one of the waitresses. Before the young girl  
arrived with pencil and pad, he turned to his companion and asked, "Do  
you trust me?"  


"No," CJ replied sarcastically.  


He turned his charm on the waitress as he plucked the menu out of CJ's  
hands and returned its spot behind the condiment tray. "Two club  
sandwiches on toast, pickle on the side, with side orders of beer  
battered fries. She's going to want real mayo on her sandwich even though  
she'll say light, and I would like a small dish of barbeque sauce on the  
side. We will both have small house salads: she will want raspberry  
vinegrette dressing on the side, and I want creamy bleu cheese dressing  
drenching everything."  


The waitress looked to CJ to confirm the order, and Danny watched,  
amused, as CJ laughed and brushed the young woman away with a wave of her  
hand and nod of her head.  


"I don't think I want to know how you know my favorite dressing or that I  
prefer real mayonnaise. It's only going to confirm my suspicions."  


Danny shrugged his shoulders. "There was a time inquiring minds wanted to  
know. Also I have a freakish mind for remembering inane trivia."  


"Yeah."  


There was a wistful tone to her response, but he let that slide. He liked  
to think that they had been good friends before the fiasco with Mandy's  
memo. With all the bru-ha-ha over the 25th amendment and him not taking  
the editor's job, it was sometimes hard to recall that there had been a  
time of stolen kisses and 10 minute head starts. That there had been a  
time before the world turned on its edge, one that now seemed on the  
brink of tumbling over yet again.  


At least he was no longer denied visitation rights to see the goldfish:  
Carol the Enforcer had left the building to be replaced by Carol the  
Gatekeeper. The education paper stunt had not gone over well with Carol.  
He had hoped that whatever animosity had passed between he and CJ was now  
water under the bridge rather than dammed behind a flood wall.  


"You're looking more rested now than the last time I saw you outside the  
White House," he commented. It had been the first weekend he had been  
back in Washington D.C. after a lengthy research trip across the country.  
That Friday night he had found her in her office, she having had just  
returned from press corralling at the President's first public address  
after the MS had been disclosed. She had looked tired then. The following  
Sunday he had found her walking a neighbor's dog in a nearby park, a not  
so coincident happenstance as he had led her to believe. She had invited  
him over for lunch; he had happily played with the dog and her mutant cat  
while she made tuna melts. He had cleaned up the mess made preparing  
lunch while she was fast asleep on the couch.  


"In my defense, I was sleep deprived that week."  


"Working in the White House is tantamount to sleep deprivation."  


"Yes, but normally I am much better at hiding it. Someone stole my happy  
pills that week."  


Danny laughed, knowing that there was a stash of chocolate candies in  
several desk drawers in her office. "You had happy pills and you didn't  
share with the rest of us?"  


"Buy your own bag of M&M's."  


There was a companionable silence until their salads arrived. CJ looked  
at his salad with disgust. It was exactly what he had asked for. "I think  
they missed a few spots on that one leaf of lettuce, Danny. You should  
send it back to the kitchen."  


Pretending to examine the salad before him with a careful eye, Danny used  
his fork to move the aforementioned leaf around so that it was covered  
with bleu cheese dressing. "Nah, there's enough here."  


"Ugh, I can feel my heart stopping just thinking about the amount of  
cholesterol you are about to inhale."  


"And here I thought it was the company."  


CJ ignored his comment and pulled the tray of condiments between their  
plates. "Ick, I can't watch you eat."  


"Then it's a good thing that it's a small salad."  


Waving her fork in the general direction of his salad, CJ asked, "How the  
hell can you eat that?"  


"Like this." He shoveled a forkful of lettuce and bleu cheese into his  
mouth, managing quiet adeptly to avoid dropping any dressing on his beard  
or shirt front. Grinning maniacally, he waited for her reaction.  


"That is the most disgusting, childish thing I have seen in a long time,"  
she drawled, replacing the condiment tray to its rightful place at the  
end of the table.  


"Thank you," he replied around the food in his mouth. "Are you going to  
eat that onion?" he asked, stabbing his fork in the direction of the  
onion slice she had set aside from the rest of her salad.  


After an excellent parry with her own fork, she then wielded the utensil  
as a weapon. "Don't touch my food. This will be your first and last  
warning."  


"Message received. No stealing food off your plate." Danny nodded  
enthusiastically, eliciting a laugh from his dinner sparring partner. He  
was glad to hear the laughter in her voice. It had been a long time since  
that was the case.   


They ate silently for a few minutes before Danny ventured, "So, want to  
tell me why you've walked into my gin joint? Don't you Senior Staff type  
hang out at Hannigan's on Constitution?"  


"Exactly." CJ had put her salad to one side, half-finished.   


Danny hoped that he hadn't just ruined her appetite. "Excuse me?"  


CJ paused, a cryptic smile on her face as she stared off to one corner.  
"Ever feel the need to..."  


Waiting for her to answer, Danny set aside his own food sensing that the  
discussion had just taken a turn for the serious despite her slightly  
bemused expression. "Need to what?"  


CJ shook her head and started to pick at her salad again. "Never mind."  


"No, really, what's bothering you?"  


"You know, it is precisely for this reason that I am not over at  
Hannigan's right now," CJ replied, waving her fork at him. "I wanted to  
avoid Twenty Questions with Josh and Sam."  


"No Toby?"  


"Toby knows better."  


Danny noticed that their waitress was headed their way with a serving  
tray. He sat up in his seat and noticed that CJ had done the same. The  
young woman placed their orders on the table with an efficient manner and  
stepped away to her next station just as quickly.  


"So the guys are getting on your nerves?" Danny asked, unfolding another  
paper napkin to spread across his lap.  


"What, are you writing for the National Inquirer now?"   


"I'm not after a story, CJ," Danny said, a touch offended.  


CJ immediately capitulated. "I didn't mean to imply that." She sighed,  
blowing air through her lips and looking anywhere but in his direction.  
When she finally looked him in the eye, she admitted, "I'm feeling rather  
twitchy lately."  


"Twitchy?"  


"Shut up. Do you want to hear this or not?"  


Danny held his hands up. "Shutting up."  


"Thank you." She paused. "I've lost my train of thought."  


"Wait another ten minutes. I'm sure another will pull into the station."  


CJ snapped her fingers of her right hand as she leaned back in the booth.  
"You know, that was almost funny."  


"I'm sorry," Danny said, daring to place his hand over hers on the table.  
"I couldn't resist."   


She didn't pull her hand away and he didn't remove his. Danny had refused  
to be a part of the press feeding frenzy when the depositions started.  
His editor agreed that his talents lay elsewhere. In the press room, he  
directed questions away from the ongoing independent council  
investigation and towards the administration's policies and the  
re-election campaign. There had been a number of days when one of CJ's  
deputies ran the press briefings.   


"The food is going to get cold," she deflected.  


Danny smiled and took back his hand. He took a sip of beer, maybe as a  
means to gather his courage. "You are more than welcome to share my  
hideout. This place is far enough off the beaten track."  


"I may have to take you up on that offer," CJ said, rearranging the food  
on her plate.  


Grabbing one half of his sandwich, Danny decided he was happy with  
whatever he could get.  


END  



End file.
